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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29563401">Somerings</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macdicilla/pseuds/bissonomy'>bissonomy (Macdicilla)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Left Hand of Darkness - Ursula K. Le Guin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aging, Domesticity, Other, they/them gethenians</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:54:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>504</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29563401</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macdicilla/pseuds/bissonomy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One must imagine them old together</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Genly Ai/Therem Harth rem ir Estraven</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Somerings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Estraven awoke, they were neither man nor woman, and their face no longer felt hot. Estraven gave a long, luxurious yawn, put on their glasses, and shuffled steadily into the living room to find Genly, freshly showered and wrapped in a warm-lined bathrobe, sitting on their old, armless couch, reading a book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up at them smilingly, slightly squinting. Genly’s glasses were for close vision instead, and he had forgotten to take them off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, </span>
  <em>
    <span>darling,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Estraven said, using the word in Genly’s native language but over-pronouncing the L to amuse him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning,” said Genly. “Sleep well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very,” they answered, settling down on the couch next to him. “It ended early again, probably overnight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They meant their kemmer. This was clear enough to both of them. But Estraven was waiting for a reaction from him. Concern, at best, or perhaps confusion or disappointment. They got none. Genly took it in stride. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I always sleep better in somer too,” he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure I do. When you’re in somer, not keeping me up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Estraven swatted him gently with a cushion, and Genly caught their hands and brought them closer. They relaxed into his arms and rested there for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re getting older,” Estraven said at last.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wiser, surely.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know about that. Am I wise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Genly smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fishing for compliments, Therem?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you eaten?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” replied Estraven. “I only just woke up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come,” Genly said, getting up. “Let’s make some breakfast.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Estraven followed him lazily into the kitchen, and watched him crack a pair of pesthry eggs into a pan of very hot oil. The edges of the egg-white bubbled and crispened. Genly put a glass lid over the pan to trap the steam, and the oil sizzled more loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re going to keep ending early and then stop coming, you know,” Estraven said. “Probably within the next year.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” Genly answered. “Are you worried about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With some hesitation, Estraven answered,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I’m not either. Careful, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This last part was accompanied by a gesture to stand back from the stove. When he took the lid off the pan, flecks of hot oil began to jump into the air. They subsided after a bit, and Genly slid the eggs onto a pair of plates. He handed one of the plates to Estraven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If we can’t be kemmerings,” Genly continued, “we’ll be somerings.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Estraven smiled, in spite of themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that what they call it on Terra?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Genly answered, gravely now. “On Terra, they call it the same thing as here, as do they on other worlds. There’s only one word for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love, you mean,” said Estraven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Love, I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moved, but not one for declarations, Estraven took his free hand, and gave it a squeeze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We still have a good few free days from my week off work,” Estraven said. “How would you like to spend them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Genly said. “But we’ll think of a way.”</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
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